


Short Moments

by deliciouslemon



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Gen, Nonbinary My Unit | Byleth, this is just self indulgent writing practice and certainly not good at all, unimaginative interpretations of prompts bc im a square
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2020-12-16 00:56:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 6,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21027623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deliciouslemon/pseuds/deliciouslemon
Summary: A series of lil short fics focusing on Byleth for writober. Other characters will drift in and out as they please.(most will be generic to any route but blions is still the only route I've finished so they'll likely feature the most prominently apologies to the rest of the kids lov u)You may note that this is not 31 chapters! that's bc I Have Given Up.





	1. Ring.

Byleth turns the ring over in their hand, running their fingers over the stones.

_One day I hope you'll give this ring to someone you love as well as I love her._

They're sure he wouldn't have meant for this to sit on them so heavily, but here they are.

Here they are, standing in front of a grave with a ring in their hands, afraid to disappoint a dead man.

Would he be disappointed if he were watching? Was he watching, his spirit hovering nearby, or maybe not close at all but watching from the stars, looking down at his strange blank-eyed freak child, standing there with a lovely ring and no one to give it to?

One of the only times he'd ever expressed some sort of wish for them and their life, and they couldn't grant it.

It's not as though they had no one they cared for. They had their students turned comrades turned friends, and they loved them all dearly, and knew they were loved in return. But of the sort of love that he'd meant?

There was no one.

The emotionless freak baby that never cried or smiled had grown into an freak adult who did not know how to fall in love.

They can almost hear his tired, grating sigh, and they jolt guiltily out of their thoughts. He would never think like that. Not their father, who could tell even from their blank face when they were hungry or tired or injured. Who had taken the time to teach them to fight, to fish, even to read, because he knew they were interested even though they said nothing.

Their father, who had thrown away everything to try to keep them safe. Their father, who would would sit with them and fish in comfortable silence, but still turn to them with a proud smile and a clap on the back when they nudged him to show off a particularly big catch. Who had watched as their life completely changed, who had watched them unfurl and open up as the students settled themselves comfortably at the centre of their lives. Had watched with pride as they truly became themselves.

Their father, who had always accepted them just as they were.

Of course he wouldn't be disappointed. Not by this. If they'd given someone the ring half-heartedly to try to please him, then that'd be a different matter.

They shake their head, smiling slightly to themselves. A breeze flows through the graveyard, and they can almost hear a familiar satisfied huff on the wind. They return the ring to its place, tucked carefully away in their pocket.

It's not as though it has to be now, either. Maybe they'll find someone later. Maybe they won't. Either way, 

Maybe it doesn't have to be the same sort of love, anyway. Maybe they can give the ring to the person they love most, the one who loved them the most. Even if it's not quite what he'd meant.

_Maybe when I'm older, if I still have not found anyone else..._

They leave the graveyard. The march to the final battle begins tomorrow, and they must be ready.

_Maybe I'll come back and leave it with you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [remembers writober is a thing half way through october]
> 
> sup nerds i'm tryna get back into the swing of writing again and this feels like a good way to do it. thanks for taking the time to read my nonsense!
> 
> this one goes out to me feeling guilty for not giving anyone the ring like jeralt hoped i might and then realising he wouldn't want that. lov u fantasy dad i miss u


	2. Mindless.

Felix gestures angrily towards the pile of rubble at the head of the cathedral, and the hunched blue cloak that stands in front of it.

"Look at this," he scoffs, and although the words are spat out there's something else underneath the anger in his voice. "A beast that's lost its mind. Pathetic."

His face twists into an ever darkner sneer, until suddenly Felix has turned on his heels and is stomping off, muttering under his breath. Then he stops, turns back, and calls out to them.

"Try to talk some sense into it, Professor. If that's even possible."

And then he really is gone.

They turn back towards the hunched, cloaked figure.

He's... so different from the earnest, bright-eyed boy they'd taught. Even just the physical differences are striking enough.

He's grown. He wasn't short before, but now he positively towers. He's a lot wider than he used to be, his hair is long and unkempt and looks like it hasn't been washed since they'd seen him five years ago. It probably hasn't.

They can't see his face from here, but they know that is different too. Older, sharper. Obvious changes like the black patch that covers his eye. The countless faint scars across his features from years living wild. His remaining good eye, with no trace of the spark of life that once shone there.

Everything is a reminder of just how much else has changed.

As they approach him, they hear the choked sounds he's making. Gutteral noises that seem to leave him unbidden as his body twitches and he clutches at his face, his hair.

They're sure Felix has already tried to talk to him. Or yell at him, as is more likely. But not knowing what else they can possibly do, they call out his name.

"Dimitri."

He does not respond.

They try again, louder- "Dimitri"- but still he does not so much as turn. Stands there, staring, into nothing.

They step closer, and then he does look at them- a brief, intense glare, that would grip their heart with icy hands if they had one- and then he's looking somewhere else again. At something else.

Well, he knows they're there at least.

It's never going to work like this. Byleth's no good at carrying conversation, preferring to mostly listen while the other speaks. If Dimitri won't say a word, talking to him will be impossible.

But still, they don't want to leave him like this, here, alone.

"Come talk if you want to."

Dimitri doesn't respond, and they're not sure he's heard them. But the offer has been made.

They spot a decent sized rock, positioned just barely within his line of sight, a short distance from him. That'll do. Not so close as to be intrusive, but with their presence still known.

The completed exams they have with them are pulled from their bag as they settle themselves down. They set to work marking, occasionally glancing up at the man before them.

Although he mostly just shakes his head and mutters to himself, clawing at his skin and staring off at something they can't see, sometimes he looks over to where they're sitting. Seeing them still there, still with him.

They can only hope that somewhere deep within him, that means something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> is using feral dimitri for mindless rly boring? oh absolutely. do i care? no


	3. Bait.

The hook falls into the water with a soft splash.

It's nice weather. The sun is out but not oppressive, a light breeze blows coolly through the monastery. Perfect for fishing.

"Ah, Professor. Fancy bumping into you here."

The voice that cuts through the air is a polite, chipped voice, composed and slightly cold, and could only belong to one person.

It's a bit surprising, although none of the surprise shows on their face. They hadn't known Seteth fished.

They do not look away from the water, but they nod in acknowledgement as Seteth sits himself on the pier next to where Byleth is standing. There is another splash as he casts his line.

Too fast, they realise. Either he baits his hook faster than their father can manage, which doesn't seem likely, or he didn't bait it at all.

A bite on the line calls their attention, but the fish is small and it only takes them a moment to reel it in. It is soon added to the bucket with the rest, destined to become dinner for whichever students Byleth hasn't been spending enough time with lately.

They pull an insect larva out of their bag and fix it to their hook.

_Splash._

Definitely too short a pause for Seteth to have baited his hook.

"I have bait if you want it."

Seteth makes a small noise of surprise at their sudden declaration. "Pardon?"

They do not pull their eyes from the water. "You don't have bait, right. You can use mine."

"I..." Seteth sounds confused. "You have not once looked at me. How did you know that I am not using bait?"

A bite. "You cast your line as soon as you sat down." Another small fish, reeled in before the sentence is even finished. They drop it in the bucket.

They pull out another larva, and bait the line again.

_Splash._

Seteth chuckles. "I suppose you would notice that, wouldn't you? You certainly are an avid fisher."

This lighter side of Seteth is still new to them, and they're not quite used to it yet. They're not sure how to respond. They don't.

"Well, I thank you for the offer, Professor." Seteth saves them from having to. "But there is no need. I am not trying to catch fish. I simply enjoy the motions of fishing, and so there is no need for me to use bait."

They nod. It makes sense, they suppose.

Seteth continues. "I must confess I am not a particularly skilled fisher, you see. So, I fish merely for the enjoyment of it."

Something clicks in their mind. "Is that why you held a fishing tournament last month instead of catching a fish yourself?"

This time he sighs ruefully. "Yes, you are correct. Ah, it hurts more than I had expected, hearing the truth put so bluntly."

A bite. This fish is larger, but still not large enough to be much more than a momentary distraction. Seems like they'd said the wrong thing.

Another fish in the bucket. Another larva on the line.

_Splash._

"Truly, Professor, I..." Seteth's voice has entirely lost its clipped, cold edge. "I cannot thank you enough for everything you have done for Flayn."

For the first time since he'd arrived, they pull their gaze from their fishing to look at him. He's looking down at the rod in his hands, a pained smile on his face.

"I... was unable to protect her." His voice is heavy, thick with emotion. "I nearly lost her."

They nod in what they hope is an understanding way, although he doesn't see it. The motion feels important nonetheless.

"And then I was unable to even so much as acquire her a fish to eat. Such a simple task..." His voice trails off.

Eventually, he looks up and meets their eyes. "Truly, professor. I am deeply indebted to you."

They hold his gaze for a moment, before smiling gently. "I am glad I could help you both."

A wry smile spreads across Seteth's face, and he turns back to the water.

The bite that comes this time is much weightier than the others, and it takes them a bit longer to wrestle the fish ashore. But it comes, they remove it from the hook, and into the bucket it goes.

Seteth huffs slightly, but it sounds more amused than irritated. "You know, Professor, you really are skilled with the rod."

They stop partway through retrieving yet another larva from their bag. "Do you want lessons?"

A sigh. "I do not wish to burden you with yet more teaching, but." There is a pause. "If you were willing, it would be appreciated."

They nod. They sit down on the pier so the two are level, and move their bait bag to sit in between them.

"We'll start with baiting then."

Seteth smiles and brings in his rod, and the lessons begin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> professor attempts a social interaction, and i attempt a dialogue. horrifying all round


	4. Freeze.

It's not unusual for students to be in the library even this late. Annette and Lysithea are workaholics to the bone, and can be found poring over books and study material at any hour of the night. Linhardt, though not at all posessing the same work ethic, simply has no regard for the clock and societal schedules. If he wants to read he'll read, no matter what the time is.

It is somewhat more unusual for a student to be on the top floor. After all, access to the top floor is _very_ scrictly limited.

Byleth stands silently, watching the shoes and uniform pant cuffs that are currently all that is visible of the mystery student. They are a faculty member here at the monastery, and they probably shouldn't just let this infraction slide.

The student moves, and a flash of yellow fabric is briefly visible between the shelves.

Of course.

The student identified, Byleth clears their throat loudly to make their presence known.

The legs freeze sharply in place. Everything in the library is perfectly still as though the entire room is holding its breath, and the sudden tension prickles on their skin. The tension of a person cornered.

"Claude," they call. "Come down here."

A quiet sigh can barely be heard from the top floor, and they can't tell whether it's resignation or relief. The legs move again, and Claude's face appears as he peers over the ledge.

"Yeesh, you scared me, Teach." Claude sighs exaggeratedly and makes his way down the stairs. "Thought you were Seteth or something."

They put on their best stern professor face, arms folded. "You're lucky I'm not."

"I'll say." A familiar cheeky grin spreads across his face as he reaches the bottom. "I'm _far_ too handsome to die."

The trespasser being Claude makes this whole situation more complicated. He may be known around the monastery for his... mischeivous tendencies, but depending on who found out about this, well. He might not be able to pass this off as simply a student sneaking into places they shouldn't be for thrills.

"Aw Teach, don't look at me like that! I've been caught sneaking around, I'm very suitably admonished, and you'll never catch me doing it again, promise!"

To be fair, Claude never seems serious, even when he is. But they still get the feeling he still isn't taking this seriously enough.

"Claude, Seteth already knows you're digging around."

His face freezes up. Just for a moment, until he's back to his normal carefully non-committal smile.

"If you get caught again, I can't promise I can protect you."

"Sounds almost like you're worried about me, Teach!" His response is blithe as always.

They'll never get a serious response out of him, they know that much. But he doesn't need to respond seriously to have got the message.

They just hope it'll be enough.

"Just... be careful."

They leave the library. They're sure he'll be back up the stairs before they've even reached the end of the hall, but hopefully this time a little further out of sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i dont like this but i dont c a r e
> 
> claude makes me nervous. he's going to get caught (again) snooping around the monastery where he shouldn't be and Something's Going To Happen To Him The Church Guards Their Secrets Jealously please child. be careful


	5. Build.

Byleth sits at the table, watching as Linhardt and Caspar bicker.

They've extensively consulted their notes on each student, they know the pair enjoy this soup. These are the two that they've spent the least amount of time with lately, who haven't seemed as engaged in class as they could be. This is the best decision for who to share today's menu with.

"Professor, _please_." Linhardt's exasperated drawl pulls them out of their musings. "Tell him to keep his mouth closed while he's eating, the noise is _awful_."

"Aw, come on!" Caspar reply comes around a mouth still full of food. "I got stuff to say, I'm not just gonna sit here!"

"I know you're incapable of being quiet for more than two seconds, but if you choke that's your own fault."

Caspar laughs, and Linhardt winces as his wide mouth displays his half-chewed food. "I'm not gonna choke, you worry too much!"

"If you make me sick, I'm throwing up on you. I hope you know that."

"Ew. Linhardt, you're gross."

"Oh, _I'm_ gross? _You're_ the one who can't-"

Byleth cuts in. "Linhardt, don't throw up on Caspar, the floor is fine. Caspar, try to chew with your mouth closed."

The pair roll their eyes in sync.

"The floor is fine? Really Professor, it's like you don't even care that he's making me sick."

"It's not _my_ fault your stomach's weak!"

"No, but _it_ is your fault that..."

Byleth watches, the two settling into their familiar back-and-forth rhythm. Even as Linhardt sighs, or as Caspar throws his hands up in frustration, they each bear a small smile on their faces.

Meals take a lot longer like this than eating alone, but the way they can feel themselves getting closer to their dear students is worth the extra time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's like...... building rapport idk if that was . obvious. i love lin and cas theyre dumb


	6. Husky.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Byleth is being followed by cute puppies and kittens.' Requested by Lunalight.

Byleth leaves the marketplace, reentering the monastery proper. They'd thought they'd been all over, but they still haven't seen Lysithea yet. Did she get lost in the winding paths around the cathedral again?

A sound behind them catches their attention, and they turn.

A dog stands in the middle of the path, its bushy black and white tail wagging back and forth.

They holds the dog's gaze for a moment. It barks once.

They turn back around and keep walking. If they're going to have to make another round, they might as well return the various trinkets they'd picked up along they way.

The sound of the dog's footsteps and cheerful panting follows behind.

They climb the stairs outside the dorms, and the scratching of claws on stone seems to come a little too frequently for just one set of paws. Did another animal decide to start following too?

As they slide the embroidered pouch under Bernadetta's door, they look down the path they'd come from.

The black and white dog, now flanked by three other dogs and even a white cat, barks once. 

Byleth stands. The animals watch.

They turn back to face forwards, continuing down the path.

The skittering behind them grows ever louder.

Edelgard is standing outside the classrooms, just where she'd been when they'd passed through earlier. Seeing her, they fish the glove they're fairly sure is hers out of their bag.

She looks up as they approach. "Ah, Professor!" A rarely-seen amused twinkle forms in her eyes as she takes in the sight, the hints of a laugh barely audible in her voice. "Looks like you've ammassed quite the following for yourself."

The sheer... number of animals that face them when they look over the shoulder catches them off guard. There must be about twenty of them, all watching them expectantly. The dogs wag their tails, the cats mewl, and all of them have wide, hopeful eyes.

They meet the eyes of the black and white dog and again, it barks once.

A thought occurs to them- it was only after the marketplace that they first saw the dog. Perhaps...?

They pull the smoked meat they'd intended to give to Raphael out of their bag. The black and white dog barks once, then twice.

So that's it.

Well, they still have that set of weights Raphael would like.

They kneel to the ground, pulling the meat into small chunks, and the pack swarms around them.

The feel of fur on their arms is soft, and the tongues lapping at their skin are warm and pleasant. Even once the meat is gone, they stay kneeling, stroking each of the animals in turn. Not that it's easy to give them all equal attention, with how insistent the black and white dog is.

Delivering the rest of the lost items and tracking down Lysithea can wait. For now they'll enjoy this new company, Edelgard's faint chuckling audible behind them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks lunalight for the request! hope it's to ur liking i did my best sweats sry it feels kinda rushed


	7. Enchanted.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Byleth has a Disney princess lovely singing voice, increasing the number of fans and students in their classroom.' Requested by Lunalight.

It had started with a hymn recital.

They didn't usually sing loud enough to be heard at choir practice, preferring to focus on leading the group and listening to the sound of their students' voices. But for whatever reason, it seemed that this time was different.

It must have been, the way Dorothea came bounding up to them as soon as the recital was finished, gushing about how she had _no idea_ you could sing like that Professor, I can't believe you've been hiding a voice like that from us! The thought occurs to them that this may be the start of something... unfortunate.

Sure enough in class the next day, it's not just Dorothea but Annette and Ferdinand as well, begging them to sing for the class.

A voice that even Dorothea praises so much be simply _exquisite_, according to Ferdinand. Oh please, please please _please_ we all want to hear it, begs Annette.

And before long the entire class is clamouring to hear their professor sing.

It's getting quite disruptive, and they'll never be able to teach like this.

They clear their throat loudly. Although a few students quiet down at the noise, the majority ingore it entirely.

"_If_," they shout, and this has more success in quieting the students. "If you finish your work early, I'll sing before class ends."

The room erupts into a cheer.

Well, they muse as all of the students, even Hilda, present their finished work well before class is over, if they can use their voice to motivate the students, that's not so bad after all.

And when Manuela and Hanneman grumble at the next faculty meeting about how ever since they'd started singing the students had been transferring to their class in _droves_, then, well. They suppose that's just the price they'll have to pay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> probably not quite what u were after with this but uhhhh this is what materialised. thanks again for the requests! hope they were at least somewhat enjoyable to read


	8. Overgrown.

The first time Byleth does their rounds after returning, the greenhouse is one of the harder places to visit.

It's a miracle the building even survived, they suppose. But there it sits, from the outside appearing just the same as it had five years ago.

But inside, it's not the same at all.

Of the crops, the flowers, the medicinal herbs and rare plants, once so meticulously kept and cared for, precious little is left. The huge red flowers that once commanded attention are barely alive, the tangle of weeds and vines that have taken over near choking them of life.

They survey the greenhouse, appraising. It's not as though it's beyond saving, not from what they can tell. With some work the weeds can be removed, with some care the plants that have survived the long neglect can be restored to health. The seeds that were kept in the storehouse seem to be undamaged, so at least some of what was lost can be replaced.

The greenhouse can be restored to something perhaps close to what it once was. Not the same, never the same, but close.

But they're not sure if they're capable of doing it.

Sure, they know how to work the ground well enough, but they simply don't have the knack for gardening that others had.

That... Dedue had.

They walk deeper into the greenhouse, passing a giant choked flower. They eye off the vines wrapped around it, trapping it, holding it down, and wonder that if they had a heart, perhaps it would look similar.

In one of the far corners of the greenhouse, the corner that had been quietly taken over for cultivating Duscur plants and flowers, the weeds rule supreme. But despite their overwhelming dominance, there is a small patch that still bears bright blue flowers. Flowers they recognise.

They kneel, and reach out to gently stroke the petals. Duscur plants needed different care to those of Fodlan, they recall. They required much less water, and in fact would wither with too much. Perhaps that was what had kept them alive.

For a moment they simply kneel there, touching the flowers. Remembering. Remembering quiet conversations, the care with which he tended to the plants, his gentle voice and the kind heart to match.

Finally, they sigh and lift their hand. One by one, they start to pull the weeds from the soil.

It'll take a long time, a lot of work, to restore the greenhouse, if they're even capable of doing so at all. But they'll try.

To keep just this part of him alive, they'll try.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is actually prompt no. 14! as u may have been able to tell by the fact that it is now May of the next year and Very Much Not October, i have thoroughly given up actually doing the whole thing and have decided to just upload the out of order ones that i have.
> 
> i still like this one actually, even 6 months on. i'm kind of surprised.


	9. Legend.

_It seems you were something of a living legend._

They're not sure what should surprise them more: that they were so widely known amongst those they'd worked with, or that they weren't surprised at all.

The Ashen Demon. A horrifying spectre, barely even human, that shadowed the Blade Breaker wherever he went. An unstoppable force, dealing death in spades, never once showing any sort of emotion. Never spoke, never slept, never ate. Only killed.

Well, some of these things they know are not true. They know how to speak. They sleep and eat just like anyone else.

Rumours of the whirlwind of death they could become, though, they're not sure. They barely remember.

Maybe they'd ask Hanneman for more details. If nothing else, it'd be interesting to know more about how they were viewed.

And maybe they'd learn something about the sorts of things they'd done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short! but i do not care! whatever ! nothing has meaning!


	10. Wild.

The beastly snarls, the vicious laughter. It hardly sounds like it could possibly come from a human throat.

And yet, there he stands. A human body, with human limbs, clutching at a lance with human hands. 

Human blood, splattered across an inhuman face.

Byleth watches as Dimitri twists and spins, graceless and terrifying, and another wave of soldiers fall. 

What on earth could have happened in the five years they'd been gone? They'd seen the darkness start to cloud his eyes when the war had first broken out, but this?

This was not merely a moment of rage. The boy they had once known was gone, transformed into this beast Felix had always warned he would become.

Perhaps the transformation was not complete. Perhaps there was a piece of him somewhere that retained reason, that was still human.

Perhaps with time, with care, this piece could be coaxed back to the surface.

If he would just stop and let those who cared for him speak to him, and let himself listen, perhaps he could be saved.

But, if he will not back down...

They grip the hilt of their sword tight, and lift their blade. It occurs to them that maybe it should feel heavy. It doesn't.

They will do what has to be done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes i'm using feral dimitri again sue me. but this one's from the other side so technically it's different


	11. Ornament.

Byleth looks down at the flag in their hands and feels a smile pull on the corners of their mouth.

Once word had gotten out among the students how bare their room was, it had barely taken a moment before they'd been presented with this gift: a brilliant red flag to adorn their wall.

_The flag is blue._

Now where would be a good place to hang it...

_The flag is yellow._

But still, it's astonishingly good quality fabric, they muse, tracing their finger along the outline of the lion emblazoned upon it. They trace the antlers, and around the wings, before running their finger once more across the mane. Brilliant workmanship.

But really, would they expect any less from the future Alliance leader _emperor king_?

Remembering the composed, refined _or was it bashful or was it cheeky_ smile that Edelgard _no it was, it was, who was it_ had worn as she _WHO_ handed the flag over, they feel their eyes soften. These students really have become their everything.

There by the window, perhaps? Wherever the flag goes, it's sure to be eyecatching. The stately blue _yellow red_ colour will easily stand out against the rest of the room, so dull and monochrome in comparison.

They hold the flag up to the light, envisioning it hanging from the wall, the image of the...

Deer?

It was a deer, wasn't it?

(But it's not a deer, it's an eagle, but it has a tail and paws, and the antlers are back and the colour keeps shifting and they can feel their eyesight blurring as a sharp pain settles into their head-)

The eagle on the flag stares back at them.

Yes, that'd be a good spot.

They set the blue flag down. They'll need to get a nail in the wall so they can hang it.

Sothis feels restless within them, her presence shifting and swirling. She seems to be speaking, but they can't make her words out.

A slight ache twitches behind their eyes as they ready a nail and hammer. Hopefully they'll be able to finish this task before the headache hits in full force. They'd like to be able to report to Claude that it's already on display when class resumes, the relieved smile on Edelgard's face knowing the gift was appreciated not something they want to pass up on.

Sothis's distress builds and builds, spiking into something unbearable and suddenly they can hear her and she's 

The sound fills their mind, ringing and echoing until they can hear nothing else. They think back on the months they've spent with the students and the months stretch out, stretch out into years and decades and ages spent redoing the same decisions. Shaking, desperate, searching.

Edelgard's body is stuck on a lance, Dimitri's head rolls on the ground, Claude's face of genuine surprise twists as the sword slices through him. Ferdinand is dead and Bernadetta's corpse goes up in flames. Dedue has become a beast and Hilda would not surrender. Felix hoped Dimitri could still be saved and died trying. Felix cut Dimitri down with his own blade and will forever regret not trying.

The Empire has fallen and the war is over but nothing has changed. They have cornered the snakes in the deepest parts of the earth but the Church's hold is still absolute. The Church of Seiros has fallen but with such a terrible cost.

The lances spike through Dimitri and they mourn. Edelgard has become something else, something terrifying and inhuman, and they mourn. Even Claude's schemes cannot save him from everything, and they mourn. They mourn.

They mourn and try again. Desperate to find some way for this to end well. To find some way to make this work. But again and again, no matter how many times no matter what they do it's all the same, it's all the same, it's _all the same, it's_...

They blink.

Sothis is silent again, and the pain behind their eyes is gone.

The nail they'd picked up sticks out of the wall. Looks like they managed to finish before the headache kicked in after all.

"Well, hurry it up!" Sothis's voice, impatient as ever, rings in their mind. "You don't want to keep your precious students waiting, do you?"

They hang the flag from the nail, and head back to the classroom. Classes will resume again soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one's, like,,, my favourite out of all of these, actually. i actually think it's not awful. have a good day.


	12. Misfit.

Byleth nods, satisfied, marking down their observations.

Cyril breathes heavily, understandably tired from the slew of drills they'd forced on him. "Was that good, Professor?"

They look over their notes- he's obviously been training with the axe and bow, and shows a knack for the lance too. He's good with the horses, as you'd expect from how diligently he performs his stable duties, and while he may have no experience with wyverns he still handles the beasts well. They're sure he'll take naturally to riding and flying.

Their mind is already racing with ideas: he'd make an excellent wyvern lord, or maybe a bow knight. He could also do well as a paladin or a sniper, oh, how _strong_ he could become with the right training.

They nod. "You've got potential."

His face lights up at that, his eyes big and wide, smile small and hopeful. "Ya think so?"

"You've been training with Shamir, right." It's not quite a question; they already know. "I'll tell her you're learning well."

His smile grows into a grin and he may not offically be one of their students, but they resolve to teach him with the same watchful care.

But...

They tap their finger on the paper. They've already taken up a lot of his time, and they're sure his mountain of chores is calling. But he's definitely ready, and it'd be a shame to make him wait longer than necessary.

"Can you spare an extra hour?"

"Uh, well, let me see..." he frowns, thinking it over. "Well, I was going to sweep the Knight's Hall, and the firewood needs to be restocked before dusk. And Lady Rhea's room needs cleaning, and the training weapons need to be polished, and..."

Byleth waits silently while he considers. Even if they offered, he wouldn't accept their help. They won't pressure him if he decides he's too busy.

"Hmm... well, none of that is really urgent, so I guess another hour is fine."

They nod. "Let's go to the classroom."

The two leave the training grounds. The classrooms are close at least, and they're not walking long.

Once they enter room, Byleth walks straight up to their desk and unlocks the drawers.

"So uh, what did ya want me to do?" Cyril stays close to the entrance. He's not smiling now. He's never really seemed all that comfortable in the classrooms.

They rummage through the drawers for a moment until they pull out what they're looking for: a fighter certification exam, and the beginner seal to match.

They head over to the back row of desks. No need to make him come in further than necessary. "I'd like you to take this exam."

Cyril stiffens up. "Uh."

"It's not anything you need to be concerned about. You've displayed well past the proficiency expected for passing a beginner exam."

He's not looking them in the eye.

"Even if you do fail, it's nothing to worry about. I'll just have you resit it later."

"That's not..." He glances around the room as though looking for an escape, and sighs deeply, finding nothing. "That's a written exam, right?"

His voice is tight and wary. They nod, and he frowns. They feel their own face pull into a frown to match. They hadn't meant to unsettle him like this.

"Well, thing is..." He shuffles where he's standing. Sighs again.

They smooth their face back into a neutral expression. They don't want him thinking they're annoyed with him.

Finally, he speaks. "I can't read."

_Ah._

That makes sense.

"I don't want people to think I'm useless so I don't much like telling people..." He's looking at his feet. "I don't want them thinking I can't handle stuff, ya know?"

They nod, and he smiles thinly.

Well, if that's all that's bothering him, that's simple enough.

"Even if you can't read, there are still many other things you can do. And besides," they smile at him in what they hope is a reassuring way, "you don't have to be able to read to take an exam."

He looks at them directly at that, eyes wide. "Huh?"

"I'll read you the questions. You tell me your answers and I'll write them down."

"Y-you can do that?"

They shrug. "I'm the professor."

He laughs, just a bit. "I mean, I guess."

They both sit at the desk, and Byleth begins explaining the exam structure. He still looks uneasy, and frowns all through the explanation. But once they move on to the questions, the dark cloud over his face dissipates.

He passes- more than just passes, he absolutely aces it- and the grateful smile on his face full of hope has them absolutely determined to train this boy well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> abrupt endingssss yeaaahhhhhhhhhhh yeah i couldn't be bothered finsihing it properly so i just cut it off and it shows.
> 
> anyway this one goes out to making cyril do exams even though he can't read


	13. Tread.

_Tread carefully, kid._

It's easy for Byleth to push the warnings out of their mind.

Everyday life at the monastery is peaceful. They love their students, and coaching and guiding them gives them a wonderful sense of purpose that they've never known throughout all their life. The knights and monks that fill the monastery smile at them as they walk past, Lady Rhea smiles and is kind and looks out for them. They eat every day, and battle only comes on weekends. And at the end of each day as they settle down to sleep, they sleep in the same bed in the same room in the same place.

It's a peaceful life.

It makes it easy to forget that just last month the knights had been sent to wipe out the entire Western Church. There was no investigation. Not even a confession from their prisoners. 

And Rhea had smiled her gentle smile and thanked them for their help, and their father's words rang in their mind.

_Tread carefully._

When Dorothea approaches them during class one day and starts in a nervous whisper with the explanation that she doesn't believe in the Goddess, the parts of the Book of Seiros that they'd been able to find in the library flash through their mind.

Dare not doubt the existence of the Goddess.

_Tread carefully._

When they try to talk to Rhea about the students' apprehensions about killing civilians, her response chills them to the bone. I hope this will be a valuable lesson to what happens to all who dare point their sword towards the heavens, said with that same gentle smile.

_Tread carefully._

Rhea sternly warns them that they and their students must keep what happened at Conand Tower a secret, the Heroes' Relics move and pulsate awfully and no one will say what they are, the grave of Seiros contains no remains, the Cardinal's Room is always locked and no one has ever seen them.

Tread carefully. Tread carefully. Tread carefully.

They will when they remember to. But they're not sure if it'll be enough.

With tomorrow's peaceful schedule of class and hymn recitals and special dinners looming, they might not even remember at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shoutout to the church for being so......................................... ominous, all of the time. and then that getting lost in the peaceful daily routine.
> 
> anyway that's all i finished and i can't be stuffed writing more so that's the end of that !!! thanks for reading, have a good day.


End file.
